


Nightingale

by chaosmanor



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: First Time, M/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosmanor/pseuds/chaosmanor





	Nightingale

The world looked like the underside of a pond surface, everything green and slick and translucent, and when Obi-Wan broke through the water, he found himself sitting on a mat in his quarters.

Anakin looked up from the document he was studying and said, "Next time, could you please meditate more quietly?"

A Jedi should emerge from a meditative state with their intellect fully engaged, cognitive faculties and senses alert, but Anakin's request made no sense, no matter how Obi-Wan turned it over in his mind.

That would be because he was making no sense. He was teasing, deliberating befuddling.

"What can you tell me of that document?" Obi-Wan asked, letting his amusement leak into his voice.

"I have read it twice, Master," Anakin said, putting the document aside and unfurling his long legs to stretch. "And I can find no central thesis. There is, indisputably, information in the document, but I cannot figure out why."

Obi-Wan stretched too, feeling blood flow back into quiet muscles, warming joints that had tightened during the long dive of his meditation. "Speculate," he said, reaching across and pouring himself a beaker of warm herb infusion from the pot on Anakin's work table.

"You set me this task so as I would leave you in peace to meditate?" Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan nodded, and sipped his tea, and waved one hand to encourage Anakin to keep going.

"Because I disturb your concentration?" Anakin asked.

He was smiling at Obi-Wan, that particular warm smile, and Obi-Wan could only smile back.

"That you do," Obi-Wan said. He did, on so many levels. Overtly, he obsessed about combat techniques, and would train to the exclusion of any of the other Jedi disciplines, to the detriment of his overall progress and to his master's annoyance; and covertly, the Force rippled around him in a way that Obi-Wan had never seen before.

Anakin leant back, stretching out on the mat they were sitting on, long lean body draped in his robes, arms above his head, then he was on his feet, pacing the room; Obi-Wan's own restless Padawan.

*

He was still restless, pacing the main room while Obi-Wan read on his mattress, so he called out, "Anakin? Could you meditate a little more quietly?"

"My apologies, Master," Anakin said, lifting the curtain that separated Obi-Wan's sleeping area from the main room.

Obi-Wan nodded and put aside the manuscript he had been reading. "Come, sit," he said. "Tell me why you are pacing."

Anakin sat on the edge of Obi-Wan's thin mattress, knees drawn up, chin resting upon them, soul in his eyes. "I cannot let go of the longings," he said, and Obi-Wan suppressed a sigh. This was familiar territory.

"You are not aspiring to celibacy," Obi-Wan reminded Anakin. "You are merely being asked to ensure that your sexual expressions strengthen your connection with the Force. We are not monks."

"But..." Anakin began, and Obi-Wan patted his hand where it rested on his feet.

"No buts, little one," he said. "Your releases need to be part of an act of love, not a result of physical tension alone. You love your body when you train, take that love with you into your bedchamber."

"How often do you...?" Anakin began, then he coloured.

"How often?" Obi-Wan asked. "I have a friend, on Coruscant, and we celebrate the warmth of our connection with physical affection, but I have not lain with him for four months now."

Anakin's eyes went wide and he mouthed 'Four months?'

Obi-Wan couldn't stop himself from smiling. "I am mature now," he said. "And considerably more disciplined than I was as an adolescent. Perhaps this is something for you..."

"To meditate upon," Anakin chimed in. "Yes, Master."

Anakin left, taking his pent-up restless energy with him, and Obi-Wan returned to his document. Really, sometimes he thought it would be a pleasant change to not be supervising his Padawan constantly.

 

Anakin was quieter, Obi-Wan gave him credit for that, but he didn't actually stop pacing, so when Obi-Wan's candle had burnt down and guttered out, he put his document aside and went to send Anakin to bed.

Walking up silently behind Anakin was always entertaining, and their mutual teasing was a sign of a robust and trusting Master/Padawan relationship, so Obi-Wan stepped noiselessly across the straw mats of the main room, invisible, his breath so quiet that not even another Jedi would hear him.

Anakin was staring out of the open doors to the garden, almost vibrating with tension, and he jumped and squawked when Obi-Wan slid his hands over his shoulders, pressing firm through his robe. "Go to bed," Obi-Wan said. "Before I knock you out just to get some peace and quiet."

Even in the darkened room, with faint tendrils of light from the night sky the only illumination, Obi-Wan could see the deep flush staining Anakin's face, and Anakin's teeth-clenching gut-knotting desire radiated up Obi-Wan's arms.

The sharp moment of realisation took Obi-Wan's breath away, and he pulled his hands off Anakin's shoulders.

"Master," Anakin breathed, proving at at least one of them had lungs that still worked. "Please."

"I can't," Obi-Wan said, stepping back, putting distance between them. "You're my Padawan, there are rules..."

Ankin nodded, face crumpling, turning away.

"The Council..." Obi-Wan began, and Anakin waved his hand, stopping Obi-Wan's words, then stalked off into the darkened garden, trailing rejection and humiliation behind him.

There were two paths to the future; in one, Obi-Wan went back to his sleeping alcove, protected the integrity of the Padawan/Master relationship, helped Anakin learn the lesson he needed to, made the same choice that Qui-Gon had with him. In the other, he followed Anakin out into the night-time garden.

Qui-Gon felt so close at that moment, always so close, on the edge of conscious thought, like a fragment of a tune heard and forgotten, calling Obi-Wan to return again and again to the deep pool in the hope that he would find him this time.

Obi-Wan pulled his sleeping robe closer about himself and followed Anakin out into the garden.

 

Anakin was kneeling beside their kitchen garden, spine bent, shoulders slumped forward, misery in every curve, and Obi-Wan sat down beside him on the cool ground. The night was still, all the nights were on Luscinia, and when Obi-Wan took a long breath in, the air smelt of dew, and the quiet growth of the kitchen garden, overlaid with the aching scent of Anakin's body.

A small night creature sang, deep warbling, rising to a trill, and Obi-Wan curled his fingers around the back of Anakin's neck, lifting the heavy gold of his hair, finding the warm skin, then he leant forward, sideways, and pressed his mouth to the skin.

Anakin tasted of rain water and time, so vibrantly alive, and they gasped simultaneously, then Obi-Wan slid his mouth across Anakin's jawline, Anakin turned in his arms, and their mouths found each other.

Anakin should have been hesitant, but he wasn't. Instead, he gripped Obi-Wan's arms, pushing him back onto the soft loam, his mouth raw and untamed, kissing Obi-Wan so hard that their teeth clicked and Obi-Wan could taste the sharp tang of blood over the sweet herb tea that Anakin had been drinking.

He needed to take control of this, or the crackle of power around Anakin would be too much, and Anakin let Obi-Wan catch his hands where they were pulling at Obi-Wan's robes, let him lift Anakin off him and lie him back on the bed of sunshine daisies, nestle him back amongst the tightly furled flowers.

"Slow," Obi-Wan whispered, and he kissed Anakin, his lips lingering and coaxing. Anakin's mouth opened again, letting Obi-Wan take charge, and they kissed slow and sweet and gentle.

Anakin was burning beneath Obi-Wan, so much desire, and Obi-Wan touched him gently, his neck, his hands, sliding his robe down his arms, brushing over the fine blonde hairs on Anakin's arms. "Like this," he whispered, and the night creature was singing and Obi-Wan slid Anakin's robe off his shoulders, baring his chest.

Anakin was lost, whimpering quietly as Obi-Wan kissed his chest, touched the pale skin, traced the muscles, lingering over Anakin's nipples, nuzzling each in turn, and when he sucked on a nipple, pulling the smooth skin into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the flesh, Anakin cried out and the hot smell of his release filled the night air.

"Ah," Anakin gasped, and Obi-Wan lifted himself up a little and pressed the length of his own cock against Anakin, through the double layers of their robes.

"Feel?" Obi-Wan whispered, and Anakin closed his eyes and moaned, rocking his hips up against Obi-Wan's, and Obi-Wan could feel the wetness that was soaking through the soft layers.

Anakin's eyelids slid up, and his eyes were glistening, and he said, "I can feel."

Anakin was right there, against Obi-Wan's mind, burning brightly, the Force so strong that it pulsed with each heart beat, and Obi-Wan lowered his mouth again and let Anakin in.

There would be no lingering separation for them, no heartsore meditations, no flickers of regret, he would not deny Anakin this contact.

Inside Anakin's mind was like staring at the sun, flooding Obi-Wan's thoughts, burning his retina, blinding him, and it was too much to resist, there was no way to hold back, and Obi-Wan cried out as Anakin slid into his body.

He was no virgin, but his body had not been taken for years, and Anakin didn't give him a chance to adjust. Anakin was too far gone, moaning and clinging, trying desperately to pull the robes that were bunched up between their bodies, clutching at Obi-Wan, almost sobbing, all while the night creatures sang, trilling lift, warbling fall.

Obi-Wan held Anakin afterwards, stroking his back, smoothing the long strands of his hair, and Anakin was curled up quietly against his mind, the fierce glare of him no more than a gentle glow now as he nuzzled against Obi-Wan's neck.

The sun rose, and the sunshine daisies, the ones they hadn't crushed in their coupling, woke and unfurled their petals, responding to the first touch of sunlight.


End file.
